


Choice

by pollitt



Category: The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert
Genre: M/M, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2004
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-25
Updated: 2004-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-21 13:12:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pollitt/pseuds/pollitt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tick chooses</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady Smith](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lady+Smith).



> Thank you to Maverick for the beta.

The first thing Tick was going to do when the got back to the hotel was to get out of his boots -authentic Ropers to go along with the Wranglers and the cowboy shirt the woman at the store had promised was the "real deal". He was already on shaky ground with Adam, and having to beg off another performance thanks to blisters and a sprained ankle from trying to walk around in those things would not improve his standing.

Great, and now he was making bad puns in his head. The second thing he was going to do when the arrived back at the hotel was to have a stiff drink.

He would end up accomplishing the first task, only after suffering an unreadable glare from Adam, who disappeared into the lounge with Benji as soon as Priscilla had fully stopped, and an all too familiar look of matronly wisdom from Bernadette.

"You look like shit," Cynthia said bluntly as stepped off of the bus. "What's wrong pardner, did you lose your horse?"

"It's not funny," Tick complained, sitting on the curb and pulling off the offending shoes.

"Oh, I beg to differ. It's been a long time since I've seen you make an ass of yourself." Cynthia sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around Tick's shoulder.

"You're not helping. How am I going to do this? He asked if I was going to have a boyfriend when we got back to Sydney."

"And you said?"

"Maybe."

"Oh Tick, what do you expect to do? Go without while he's there? What about Adam?"

"I hadn't thought that far in the future," Tick started and, when what his wife had said registered, he turned and looked at her wide-eyed. "Adam? What does he have to do with any of this?"

"You're either a blind idiot or you're a bastard. And whichever one you are, I hope it ends soon, for all of your sakes."

And with that, she stood up and left, leaving Tick to his thoughts. Something he would still be doing an hour later as he sat on his bed, watching some horrible frontier drama on the local station, when he heard a knock on his door.

"Yes?" He said, opening the door to find Felicia, dressed in a short pink skirt and white shirt, her blonde Agnetha wig and looking very much like a woman ready for a date.

"Excuse me, sir, I heard you might be looking for a date," Felicia said, demurely dipping her head and looking up at Tick through lowered lashes.

Before Tick could answer, he found himself being pulled forward and kissed quite thoroughly.

"What the hell is this about?" Tick demanded, stepping aside so Felicia could enter the room-her blonde hair swaying back and forth as she sashayed in.

Executing a model turn, Felicia walked back to Tick, letting her hands move up and down his chest, lightly scratching the fabric of his shirt. "I'm trying to give you what you want. You see Benji at the show last night and faint dead away, and today you walk around all day like John Wayne's got a hand up your bum like a puppet. You're going to have to play the father now, which means you can't go around with boy toys at your arm, not that you ever did before. But the thought of finding some pretty little lass to play hide the salami with is enough to make you want to turn your spiked heels and run, frocks in tow. So what is it that you want, Tick? Blonde hair and frocks and curves for the daytime, when everyone can see you-nevermind the fact you're a bloody drag queen-and at night..."

"Your pissed out of your mind, aren't you?"

"Haven't even gargled mouthwash tonight," Felicia answered, grabbing Tick's hand and pushing it between her legs.

It was Adam's voice who spoke, hot and low, "And at night, where no one else can see, you could have this." Adam pushed his groin against Tick's hand. "Is that what you want? Maybe even have me keep the wig and make-up on as I'm on my knees in front of you."

"No." Tick tried to pull his hand away, but Adam wasn't letting go so easily.

"Do you know what you want, Anthony?"

"Yes," Tick admitted, pulling at the blonde wig with his free hand.

"Do you know who you want?" Adam asked, taking a step forward.

"Yes." Tick let his hand move slightly over Adam's cock underneath the thin fabric of the skirt.

"And?"

"I want you, Adam. You."

"Damn right you do," Adam agreed.

Freed of that choice, of saying it out loud, Tick couldn't *not* wrap his arm around Adam's waist and kiss him, smearing the perfect lipstick. He couldn't not tug at the skirt, listening with satisfaction as the fabric tore away. He wanted Adam naked and sweating, and he told him as such.

"Mmmm, maybe the cowboy look is a good thing for you after all," Adam laughed, pulling his shirt over his head and sitting back on the bed. "This is one place I really didn't think I'd ever find myself. I was starting to think you were too bloody thick in the head."

Tick thought about responding but settled, instead, on making Adam shut up, reducing him to moans as Tick explored the chest he'd so often admired, when he covered Adam's body with his own, pushing up against him as they fought for control and then release.

"Did my wife put you up to this?" Tick asked later, tracing the cluster of freckles that dusted Adam's shoulder.

"Ugh, don't use the w-word, we're still in the afterglow," Adam sighed, looking down at his hands. "No, I decided to put you in your place all on my own. I'm not *just* a pretty face and fabulous lay. She did, however, threaten to leave me in the middle of nowhere without any sunscreen, clothes or ABBA if I hurt you. I have to tell you, Mitzi my darling, your little woman is quite a catch."

"That she is." Tick smiled and for a while there was quiet.

"Adam?"

"Hmmm?" Adam murmured.

"Would you skip shaving on the drive home?"

"Got a thing for stubble, do we?"

"Please?"

"For you, Mitzi, my darling, anything."

 


End file.
